


Christmas Cookies

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: (or biscuits if you're British), Cookies, Fluff, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21911368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: Watson makes a fuss over a plate of biscuits. Written for WAdvent Open Posting Day #4 over on Watson's Woes.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Watson's Woes WAdvent 2019





	Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Utterly silly, relatively plotless Christmastime fluff. There is Holmes POV. There are cookies. Written in a complete rush. You have been warned.
> 
> Prompt: Surprises.

“Mrs Hudson, these are lovely.” Watson’s voice drew me out of my contemplation of the Adams problem as Mrs Hudson’s entrance with a tea-tray had not done. My friend was staring with rapt attention at one of the plates on the tray. I was sitting at too low an angle to see what was on that plate.

“So many different shapes, and all so cunningly done,” Watson went on. “These must have taken a great deal of time.”

Our landlady was all smiles. She is not immune to flattery, and deeply appreciates Watson’s enthusiasm for food. “Oh, no, Doctor Watson. They’re actually quite simple to make if you have the right equipment, or so I’ve found. I borrowed the press from Mrs Johansen from around the corner. She has all these cunning little discs for it, each one with a different shape.”

I sat up in my chair, but I still could not see the contents of the plate.

“Well, if they taste even half as good as they look, they’ll be an exceptional treat. How kind of you to go to the trouble.”

“As I said, Doctor Watson, it really wasn’t much trouble at all.” Mrs Hudson finished setting the tray down on the table and stood up. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, more from pleasure than from any effort. “I’ll leave you two gentlemen to your tea. Dinner will be at the usual time.”

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson. I’ll try not to spoil it with all these treats,” Watson called after her retreating form. He closed the sitting-room door behind her.

Curiosity drew me from my chair and over to the table, where I was finally able to see what Watson had been speaking about. A plate was filled with pale-colored biscuits in the most bizarre shapes. “Is that a dagger?”

Watson joined me at the table and leaned companionably against my shoulder. His moustache twitched. “I believe that’s meant to be a cross, Holmes.”

“Seems odd to have a cross with a noose…”

“A wreath, I think.” Watson paused as his shoulders shook. “Or possibly the letter S that’s gone a bit awry.”

“Why an S? And what about this one? It looks remarkably like an obscure Japanese weapon called a _shuriken_.”

“A more likely deduction would be a star.” Watson could no longer control his chuckles.

I must have smiled or otherwise given myself away, for Watson huffed and rolled his eyes. He picked up a biscuit and held it up to my lips before I could make another outrageous suggestion. I smirked and took a bite. Buttery and sweet, crisp on the outside and soft on the inside; it was a very good biscuit indeed.

“I think Mrs Hudson might appreciate one of these presses for her very own,” I said once I had finished eating the biscuit.

Watson’s skeptical look turned to one of pleasure as he bit into his own treat. “Hm. It might make a thoughtful gift at that.”

One that Watson would enjoy, too; that much was clear. Two gifts in one, or as the old saying went, two birds with one stone…

Stone.

The Adams problem came together in my mind all of a piece, the solution right there in front of me.

I bolted for my bedroom, flinging off my dressing-gown and reaching for my frock coat. Behind me, I heard Watson start making his own preparations for departure without my having to say a word. My friend knows me well.

Later on, culprits apprehended and police on the scene, I discovered that Watson had also taken the time to wrap up the tea biscuits in a napkin and tuck the packet into his coat pocket. The biscuits were mostly broken bits and no longer variously shaped, not being sturdy enough to travel well, but were still delicious, and welcome fortification before the tedious but necessary effort of explaining things to the local constables.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted December 22, 2019.
> 
> The cookies in this story are Spritz cookies, which are a type of butter cookie made by forcing the dough through a mechanical press. The shape of the cookie depends on the stamped-out holes in the disk you put in the press. Traditional shapes do not include daggers, nooses, and other weapons.


End file.
